James Victore on Paul Bacon

I was a horrible design student. Eventually the school I was
attending caught wind of this and asked me to leave. I did and
headed straight to one of my (now former) instructors' design
office. This was the studio of book jacket designer Paul Bacon.

In class even Paul had given me a “D.” Paul is a tall wiry very
erudite gentleman who could tell a joke so dirty that it would
singe off yer eyebrows. I spent the next few weeks hanging around
Paul's studio watching him work. One day I asked if I could make my
hanging around “official” and if I could be his apprentice. He
thought about it for a moment, then smiled and said, “Sure, no one
ever asked!”

It was a treat to watch him work. He would draw the lettering
for titles by hand, create the illustrations in any type of style
required and even take beautiful photos for the covers, if that was
so required. He is a master of his trade. He designed covers for
Joseph Heller, Kurt Vonnegut, E.L. Doctorow, Robert Ludlum, all the
best authors of the '70s, '80s and into the '90s. But I did not
learn to design from Paul.

From Paul I learned to how to throw your shoe at talk radio
programs. I learned about wine. I learned about cars and auto
racing. But mostly I learned about jazz. I learned how to use my
ears. I learned why Fats Waller is relevant. I learned how good
Jelly Roll Morton really is. And also how to listen to Philip
Glass, James Brown and rap. In other words, he taught me everything
I needed to be a designer.

Today, at 80, Paul still designs jackets, although he is much
more intent on his first love, jazz. He plays in New York's
swingingest New Orleans-style jazz band, “Stanly's Washboard
Kings.” Paul plays the kazoo and sings as beautifully and as
lyrically as Jack Teagarden.